


Dinner and a Strong Drink

by rosamynal



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.1 Spoilers, Aymeric is fine with that, Dinner, Estinien's oblivious, M/M, Valentione's Day (Final Fantasy XIV), adorable idiots, and a feral cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosamynal/pseuds/rosamynal
Summary: After Estinien reports to the Rising Stones, he has business to attend to.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60
Collections: Valentine's Fic Exchange 2020





	Dinner and a Strong Drink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [horsechiffon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsechiffon/gifts).



Estinien shook his head. Silver-white hair rippled with the movement in the warm light of the tavern’s backroom.

“Sorry, but I’m not inclined to extend my contract. Gaius isn’t the only one with business to attend to.”

His answer was directed to the dainty Lalafellin woman dressed in pink. Disappointment spread across her face at the reply while he bid the Warrior of Light farewell and warned his friend not to doze off in battle. With a curt nod, he turned and walked out of the Rising Stones.

Ishgard was as cold as ever, but the snowy stones and braziers were a welcome sight after the icy metal of Garlemald’s streets and ceruleum lamps. His well-worn boots traveled the familiar path from the city gates to the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly. The knights greeted him with polite nods as he entered the building and continued to his old friend’s office.

The dragoon announced himself with two sharp knocks at the closed door. A distracted command from within bid him enter. A familiar sight awaited him when he pushed the well-oiled door open. 

Aymeric sat at a mahogany desk across from the office door--at least, from what Estinien could see. Stacks of papers obscured most of the black-haired Elezen from his sight. The scratching of Aymeric’s quill against parchment filled the air as Estinien crossed the blue and gold rug on the floor to approach the overladen desk.

The white-haired Elezen stopped in front of the desk. Midnight blue gaze sought sky blue as he stared at the top of Aymeric’s bowed head. The other man smoothly signed the bottom of a letter, set the ink with powder, and placed it in a steadily growing stack of papers then took another from the pile on his left. Estinien waited for him to sign another document before slamming the wine bottle in his left hand on the desk. Papers scattered to the floor. 

Without looking up from his work, Aymeric calmly addressed him.

“Hello Estinien. How fared Garlemald?”

Estinien bit back an annoyed growl, but openly glared at the Speaker.

“Don’t you ‘Hello Estinien’ me,” he spat. “I’ve been in enemy territory for weeks and that’s the most you have to say? Do you not even know what season it is?”

“Ah, I see you hired a secretary, then,” came the calm response. “I was not aware the nutkin were proficient with calendars. Do you pay them in acorns?”

The growl escaped his lips before he could stop it. His hand tightened its grip on the bottle’s neck. He considered breaking it on the edge of the desk. Perhaps drenching the pristine parchments in red wine would finally get the other man’s attention. 

Before he could carry out his proposed plan, Aymeric looks up from his work with a warm smile. The light blue eyes that met his dark ones sparkled with amusement.

“‘Twas a joke, old friend. Full glad am I to see you home safe.” His eyes dropped to the bottle. “What’s this?”

Estinien slowly eased his grip on the bottle. Aymeric locked eyes with him again. He tried to stop the reluctant smile that spread across his face. Judging from the way his friend sat back in his seat to grant the dragoon his full attention, he had failed.

“A bottle of wine I picked up in Gridania,” he explained, redirecting his gaze at the window in the far wall. “I remember you mentioned enjoying it a few moons back.”

_ I thought you might want another bottle of it, _ he finished in his mind, but bit his tongue.

The dark-haired Elezen hummed quietly, taking the bottle into his hands. A quick inspection of the label brought a fresh smile to his face. He held it out to Estinien as he spoke.

“It should go well with what I asked the staff to make for dinner,” he replied. “Would you like to join me or do you already have plans with some bear trap in the Dravanian Forelands?”

“Will you lay off it or should I take that bottle back?” Estinien spat. “If you want me to storm out of here, just tell me.”

Aymeric’s expression softened upon hearing the dragoon’s tone. His lips eased into a faint pout before curling into a sincere smile. His light eyes radiated mirth, but his voice was sincere.

“Again, you have my apologies, Estinien. It’s simply that I’ve so missed teasing you all this time that I could hardly help myself. Please, have dinner with me. If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, we can even walk together.” 

Estinien glared at the other Elezen. He grunted his assent and ducked down to pick up the fallen papers. 

It didn’t take Aymeric long to finish the stack he had been working on. He set them aside with a satisfied hum, claimed the bottle Estinien had gifted him, and left the office with his friend in tow. 

They walked through the city with a brisk step, fur cloaks done up in defense of the incessant cold. The pair made small talk, comparing the cold in Ishgard to that Estinien encountered in Ilsabard. Lords and ladies alike politely hailed Aymeric; he peppered warm reponses into their discussion, addressing the strangers without altering his even pace. 

Upon reaching Aymeric’s home, he ushered Estinien inside and quickly shut the door to prevent the heat from escaping. Although the dragoon managed to catch the subtle relief that crossed the other Elezen’s face as he turned away from the door. Aymeric’s manservant appeared in the foyer, stiff as a lance and ready to accept their cloaks. 

The master and servant exchanged hushed words which Estinien only barely caught. From what he could piece together, dinner was ready and Aymeric turned away the suggestion to bathe before eating. The bottle of wine was handed over to the manservant and asked to be reserved until dessert. 

The pair continued into the dining room. The lit fireplace summoned the white-haired Elezen to its side. He used its warmth to chase away the cold stubbornly clinging to his fingers. Aymeric joined him with a curved glass filled a third of the way by a deep amber liquid; the curly-haired Elezen’s other hand held a glass of red wine. Estinien accepted the offer, clinked their glasses together, and sniffed his drink.

“Dragonsbreath?” he murmured and met Aymeric’s steady gaze. “Why do you have a bottle of this? You can’t stand it.”

The other Elezen gave a subtle shrug of his shoulders before taking a sip of wine. 

“However  _ you _ seem to enjoy it, so I asked Sebastien to keep a bottle handy.”

The off-handed tone in his voice roused Estinien’s suspicion. Dark eyes narrowed as he studied Aymeric’s stoic face. The other man’s pale eyes suddenly darted to the side, averting the black-haired Elezen’s gaze. 

Were his cheeks suddenly turning rosy? Or was it leftover from the chilled air outside? 

Servants entered the room to set the long dining table. Aymeric seized the distraction to request that they set it so the two would be sitting across from each other in the middle of the table as opposed to the heads. Two of the younger maids exchanged a quick glance while the others adjusted the place settings.

Two of the servants vanished through the connecting door to the kitchen, through which wafted the salty scent of cooked seafood and the earthy aroma of popotoes and millioncorn. They reappeared moments later: one bore a platter laden with lobster tails and steamed clams while the other carried bowls of boiled popotoes and buttered millioncorn. The food was arranged on the table. A maid brought in a vase of red roses and another lit the white candles in the silver candelabras. 

Sebastien motioned to the readied table. Aymeric thanked his manservant and informed him that he would be called if needed. The servants bowed before filing out of the dining room, leaving the two alone. 

They sat across from each other at the dining table. Aymeric served the lobster tails while Estinien spooned millioncorn kernels on his plate. They traded off until both plates had a bit of everything. The pair ate in silence for a few minutes until the other man spoke up.

“You never told me how it went in Garlemald,” he observed in a soft tone.

“It was as cold as a dragon’s arse,” Estinien replied, “and just as hospitable.”

Aymeric hummed at the news and dipped a bite of lobster into a butter sauce. 

“Well, I can assure you that  _ Ishgard _ is pleased to see you return. How long do you plan to stay?”

“Can’t say. Is there something you need me to do?”

An innocent smile graced the black-haired Elezen’s face upon hearing the question. Something about it roused Estinien’s suspicion. His gaze swept over Aymeric’s calm face.

“You could say that,” he replied. His friend’s smile twisted into a smirk. “There is something I would have you see to  _ personally _ .”

“What is it? Some dragonet terrorizing a sheep somewhere?”

“I would think that falls under your expertise.”

Estinien narrowed his dark eyes into a glare. Aymeric responded with an apologetic, if easy, smile.

“Again, my apologies. I couldn’t help myself. I am, however, serious in saying I know of a problem only you can address, but let us not worry about it until  _ after _ our meal.”

The dragoon nodded, spearing a chunk of popoto with his fork and shoving it into his mouth while Aymeric drove the conversation elsewhere. What followed was a typical idle dinner conversation that interested him little. He listened to the other man’s smooth voice address the various topics for the most part, save for when he found himself nodding or shaking his head at certain intervals. 

When they had eaten their fill and were sipping on their respective drinks, Aymeric rang a small, silver bell. Servants swept into the dining room and cleared off the table between them. The black-haired Elezen nodded to his manservant, the shadow of a smile stretching his lips ever so slightly. 

A moment later, a maid approached with the bottle of wine Estinien had gifted Aymeric. She poured a glass for each man while Sebastien placed dessert on the table. It was a small, chocolate cake sitting in a swirl of dark red syrup. Powdered sugar had been dusted over the top. A sliced rolanberry completed the decoration, fanned out in the middle of the cake. A gold fork was placed beside each man’s hand before Sebastien bowed and retreated with the maid, leaving them alone.

Aymeric’s eyes immediately dropped to the cake. He cut a bite-sized piece off with his fork and dipped it in the syrup. Estinien watched him gingerly bring the morsel to his lips, careful not to drip anything onto his clothes. The white-haired Elezen was suddenly aware of how dark the room had become with the setting of the sun and only the candelabras for light. From the next room, he caught the soft notes of a song played on an orchestrion. The entire scene struck him as almost  _ intimate _ . 

His old friend took another bite of cake and sipped the wine. Sky blue eyes finally met his midnight blue gaze. Rose had begun to tinge Aymeric’s cheeks; Estinien nearly brushed it off as the wine and then…

Aymeric cut off a third morsel. He reached across the width of the table and presented it to Estinien with a soft smile, who stared at it as if it were capable of biting him. The gold fork bounced in the man’s steady hand.

“Aren’t you going to try it? It’s delicious,” Aymeric noted.

When Estinien tried to take the fork, the other man suddenly moved it away with a soft tutting sound. He lowered his hand. Aymeric leaned in and presented the morsel once again. The curly-haired Elezen propped his chin up with the opposite hand; his pale eyes expectantly watched the man across the table.

Estinien held his gaze for a moment before looking at the cake between them. He snatched his fork up and swiped a bite for himself. As he chewed the moist morsel, he nodded at Aymeric. Upon locking eyes with his friend, however, Estinien thought he caught sight of disappointment in his pale eyes. 

He glanced around the room, reflecting on his prior realization. Was he  _ not _ imagining things? Had he been mistaken? Was he  _ wrong _ ?

The dragoon sighed and met Aymeric’s gaze. He stuck his fork into another piece of cake and offered it to the other man. Black eyebrows shot up a fair-skinned forehead.

“You planned all this, did you not?” Estinien asked. “The liquor, the decor, the meal… How did you know I would be home in time?”

“I didn’t,” came the quiet confession. “At least, not for Valentione’s. Regardless of when you arrived, I thought it would be a nice welcome.”

“It is,” Estinien replied, smiling gently at Aymeric. “Thank you.”

A faint heat spread across his face as he watched Aymeric lean over the table and gently take the fork in his mouth. His soft lips closed over the tines of the fork. Applying the barest pressure, he slides back, taking the bite with him. As he chewed, he offered a piece speared on his own utensil to Estinien. 

This time, Estinien accepted. While not as smoothly as Aymeric, he managed to take just the bite of cake and leave the fork behind. He washed it down with a mouthful of wine. His friend offered another piece of the confection. 

When the white-haired Elezen ate the offering, Aymeric darted forward. He seized the front of Estinien’s shirt and pulled him in for a deep kiss. The foreign tongue slipped into his mouth; he tasted the chocolate and wine lingering on it. They parted, only for Aymeric to keep him close via the grip on his collar.

Estinien chuckled.

“About time,” he purred. “Took you long enough, Borel.”

“Took  _ you _ long enough to notice. I was starting to think you were oblivious.”

Rather than respond, Estinien moved the cake aside and pulled Aymeric towards him over the table. The other Elezen took over once his knees were able to plant themselves. He lunged forward. Estinien toppled backwards with the chair. They hit the floor with a muted  _ thump _ thanks to the rug. 

The pair disentangled themselves from the chair and kicked it aside. Estinien stole a deep kiss from Aymeric while the latter’s hands busied themselves with peeling off the dragoon’s clothes. Although Estinien wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in Aymeric’s curls, he focused on removing the other man’s many layers. 

They traded off. One article of clothing for one kiss. Eagerness spurred them on to the point where their lips were constantly locked as they blindly ripped clothes off each other. Soon, they were naked on the dining room floor. Aymeric braced himself over Estinien as both finally broke the long kiss. 

His gaze traveled over Aymeric’s battle-toned body. He took in each swell and dip of the man’s muscled chest. Eyes lingered on the faint scars marring the otherwise perfect view. His hands reached up and buried themselves in the dark curls on Aymeric’s head. Estinien pulled him down for a deep kiss. Aymeric’s thumb rubbed the head of his erect cock, eliciting a deep, guttural moan from Estinien. 

Midnight met sky blue. Both Elezen smirked. 

Morning found Estinien and Aymeric in each other’s arms on the dining room floor. The former stirred, unsure of how long they had slept. He was pleasantly sore in places that hadn’t ached in  _ years _ —partly thanks to the oil Aymeric had hidden in his pocket and produced at just the right time. 

The latter still slept. Estinien studied the man’s peaceful face. He smiled and tried to slip out of his lover’s arms. He didn’t get far.

Two things happened simultaneously. Aymeric opened his eyes and tightened his hold on the dragoon, effectively halting his escape. A knock at the door put a permanent stop to it. Sebastien’s voice carried through the solid wood.

“Forgive me, my lord, but Ser Lucia is here. Something has come up that requires your attention.”

Estinien tensed at the news. He struggled against Aymeric’s hold like a cat about to be thrown in the bath—and fared about as well. The shorter Elezen held him close as he lifted his head from the floor.

“Very well. Ask her to wait in the sitting room; I will be along shortly.”

Before he could flee, Aymeric pinned Estinien to the floor by the wrists. The pressure was enough to reignite the soreness from the previous night’s activities. Aymeric kissed him and flashed a teasing smirk.

“Do you plan to jump out the window the moment I release you? Remember that you aren’t wearing anything; I don’t want a scandal waiting for me by the time I walk out the front door.”

“Then let go so I can get  _ dressed _ ,” Estinien hissed. “Or I swear by the Fury, I  _ will _ jump out of the window naked as the day I was born.”

Another kiss, this time slower and deeper. Aymeric eased his grip on Estinien’s wrists in favor of bracing himself over him. The kisses trailed from the dragoon’s mouth, along his jaw, and down to the crook of his neck. Aymeric chuckled into his skin.

“You wouldn’t; you’d freeze it off.”

“Would not.”

“Would too. And if not, it’d get injured bouncing around like that without any support.”

Estinien pushed on the other man’s shoulders. Aymeric fell onto the rug, holding his sides as he laughed. The dragoon snorted and rolled up into a sitting position. He glared at the other Elezen, who finally controlled his laughter.

“Stay, please. You can, at the very least, enjoy a warm bath and a cooked meal before jumping through any windows. Maybe even another dinner?”

He hesitated. Aymeric caught it. His smirk softened into a sincere and inviting smile. Without another word, his old friend… no, his newfound lover gathered his discarded clothes. Putting on his pants, he bundled the rest of his attire in his arms and confidently strode out the door, closing it behind himself.

Estinien surveyed the dining room. The candles had burnt down to nothing, dripping wax on the expensive table cloth beneath the candelabras. The chair he had been sitting in remained pushed to the side to give the men room. His clothes were strewn about—his scarf had somehow wound up dangling from a sconce on the wall. 

He considered the Speaker’s proposal. In the solitude of the dining room, he allowed himself a faint smile.

What was one more day?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Wanna join a discord packed with other people who like FFXIV fanfics? [ Here you go! ](https://discord.gg/EdYa4x9)
> 
> Think of it as a... book club filled with wholesome, yet _thirsty_ people who play FFXIV together! We're all really creative and beyond supportive. <3


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